Oz Beach Boy's Wet Vengeance

NOTES: This is an entry in the April Fools Day Story Contest 2023, so I'd really appreciate it if you could take the time to vote. This story features my recurring character Matt (a muscular, well-hung, sex addicted 26-year-old male exhibitionist) taking his sneaky, prank-style revenge on Cassie, the thirty-something woman who publicly humiliated him in my previous story "Oz Beach Boy Pantsed By Joggers". This is an ENF story with a CFNM call-back, and features NO male/female sexual activity. This is a work of complete fiction. All characters are over the age of eighteen.

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It was a hot, cloudy day in Sydney, Australia. I couldn't believe my eyes. A mere five metres away from me stood blonde, beautiful, big breasted Cassie, the mean-spirited bitch who had publicly humiliated me many, many months previously.

I was on the parking road which runs along Bondi Beach, pulling my spearfishing gear out of the boot of my car. Ready for action, I already had my black wetsuit on, and my fishing knife was strapped to my ankle in a special sheath. I was putting my spear-gun and face mask into a big carry bag when I heard a harsh, badgering female voice drifting toward me on the thick, humid summer air.

"Tommy, you fuckwit," I heard the Aussie accented voice bellow, and looked over with interest.

And, boom, there she was...Cassie. Short and curvy, the thirty-something blonde was wearing a revealing black bikini which showed off her big, pillowy breasts and wonderfully rounded hips. Her bare stomach was far from toned, and was mildly creased with flab. I could see cellulite pocking her upper thighs. As she had when I first saw her, Cassie looked hot.

Though several metres away from me, I could see Cassie's lively blue eyes sparkling in the cloud-shrouded sun, while her pretty face was twisted into a furious scowl. She was pointing animatedly at a big, heavy-set guy who looked several years her junior. Cassie's big breasts wobbled sexily with the movement in her unsupportive bikini top.

His arms already full with a heavy bundle of towels and a beach umbrella, the big guy was reaching into the boot of a gleaming white Mazda CX-5, pulling out more beach gear.

"Sorry, Cassie," the younger guy pleaded in a thick Scottish accent. "I'm just getting your hat and sun-dress, sweetheart."

"Well, fucking hurry up," Cassie squealed. "Look at all the clouds! I want to get down to the beach now, and you're dragging your fucking heels! You've been fucking me around all day! Wasting my time! Chop fucking chop, boyo! I wanna swim!"

"I'm coming, darling," poor, beleaguered Tommy said uselessly in his defence. "We'll get there! I promise! I'm coming, love!"

"Well, you better hurry up, or there'll be no blowie tonight, mate," Cassie sneered. "You can jerk yourself off instead, you Scottish prick! And if you keep fucking around, I'll make you wear my knickers and high-heels while you pull your sausage! I'll film you too so Bec and Jess can see!"

"Come on, Cassie," Tommy pleaded. "Don't make me do that again! It's so humiliating...every time the girls see me now, they make fun of me...Bec even squeezed my balls last time!"

"That'll just be the beginning, mate," Cassie sneered. "I'll squeeze your fucking balls until the little things pop! I might even bring out Betsy..."

"Oh, no...please don't do that," Tommy pleaded. "Not Betsy..."

"We'll fucking see, Tommy boy," Cassie snarled. "We'll see...Betsy's been missing you."

Cassie was a real piece of work: an awful, sadistic bitch who obviously had a thing for demeaning and humiliating younger men. As the harried Scotsman Tommy finally got all of their beach gear together, the pair walked off hurriedly toward the concrete promenade and then on down to the crystal sands of Bondi Beach itself.

"Oh, yeah, I'll have some fucking fun with you, Tommy boy...the big man in my little knickers," Cassie laughed with an evil flourish, and then continued in a taunting, sing-song voice. "Betsy...Betsy...Betsy's coming out to play!"

As I watched the pair walk off, I wondered why a fit, twenty-something guy like Tommy would put up with so much shit from a thirty-something bitch like Cassie, no matter how good looking she might be. Maybe, like me, poor Tommy was something of a submissive. Maybe he enjoyed the abuse...there was no other possible reason.

With the sun in my eyes, I absent-mindedly continued to gather my spearfishing gear, while mentally replaying what had happened between Cassie and me. Feelings of hatred, shame, embarrassment and anger rippled through me, and I felt my face begin to flush.

Our encounter had happened many, many months back in the middle of a very mild winter, on one of the wildest days of my life up until that point. I'd been walking around the beach area not far from my home in just my Speedos after having a swim.

Four female Russian tourists saw me at the top of a remote rocky headland. They threatened me and made me take off my Speedos. There was nothing I could really do without getting violent...plus, I was turned on by the whole experience too.

The Russian women took nude photos of me with their phones, they sucked me off, jerked me off, stuck their fingers up my butt, and then one of them aggressively fucked me. They taunted me and humiliated me. I protested, but I actually loved it. I came all over myself to the sounds of their uproarious laughter and constant teasing.

The four rapacious tourists then stole my Speedos and mockingly left me with only a pair of one of their underpants to cover myself. I made the embarrassing trek through a hilly park back to the beach where I'd left my clothes. My huge dick and balls were barely covered by the tiny piece of fabric. [See Story: "Oz Boy Owned By Russian Tourists"]

In the park, I was then stopped by Cassie and her two power-walking friends, Bec and Jess. Amused and confused by the sight of me in the obscenely revealing women's panties, the trio launched into me. They were all amused by my vulnerability, and started to mock me mercilessly. [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy Pantsed By Joggers"]

"Oh, come on, girls! Don't objectify him like that," Cassie said with joking, theatrical sympathy when her friends ridiculed me. "He's a human being with feelings!"

Cassie -- the cheekiest and most aggressive of the three, and the undeniable leader of the trio -- then led her friends in pantsing me in the public park. I ran away desperately, but the three thirty-somethings caught me. Wildly laughing, the trio worked together to get the underpants off me. Once I was completely nude, their verbal torment continued.

I am very lucky to have a truly enormous, statistically outlying penis, which Bec, Cassie and Jess all made raunchy, prurient fun of once they'd ripped off my ridiculous underpants. They were having the time of their lives...at my naked expense.

"Oh, fuck," Cassie laughed. "Look at the size of that thing! It's fucking huge!"

The three girls all took photos of me with their phones, and then gleefully left me naked in the park, mocking me the whole time. Though they were all bitches, Cassie's leadership position instantly made me hate her the most.

"You've got nothing to be ashamed of," Cassie laughed. "You're hung like a fucking horse!"

The girls incorrectly assumed I would have to get back to my car, or go all the way home, naked. I could have lived anywhere, as far as they knew. This made the whole situation even funnier to them. It was a truly cruel act on their bitchy behalf.

Though all three girls enjoyed themselves, Cassie really drove my humiliation. She had encouraged her two friends to get me naked, and was then relentless in her further humiliation of me.

Cassie was actually the one who physically ripped the underwear from my body. Once I was completely naked, she'd even landed a huge, hard, stinging, right-hand slap on my bare butt.

"I like the idea of leaving you here totally naked," Cassie giggled when I pleaded with her not to leave me nude in public. "A big, strong guy like you...you'll be okay! Good luck getting home! Don't trip over your dick!"

Once the girls left me naked, I luckily found a small, dirty, discarded children's beach towel left in the grass nearby. It was filthy, but I covered myself with it, and quickly made my way back to my clothes on the beach unnoticed.

Nothing happened to me, but if I'd actually had to go all the way home naked, I could have been reported to the police for indecent exposure, beaten up by someone who took offence, or even sexually molested or assaulted, by a man or a woman, or a group of both.

Cassie, Bec and Jess were absolute monsters. Thanks to sheer luck and pure coincidence, I'd been able to previously have my delightful vengeance on the bitchy Bec [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy's Revenge On Bitch Bec"], and now thoughts of getting payback on group leader Cassie began to rocket through my mind.

The thirty-something blonde was reprehensible. She had absolutely delighted in mocking me, and I wanted to take Cassie down. I wanted Cassie to feel what I'd felt. I wanted to humiliate her.

Bizarre sexual experiences are a regular part of my singularly sordid existence. Though not officially diagnosed, I'm a raging sex addict. I'm a 26-year-old narcissistic Aussie male exhibitionist who loves getting nude, preferably with women watching me. I spend hours training to get my body into intensely ripped and muscular shape, principally to attract as much female attention as possible.

I like to show off and put myself in potentially sexy situations whenever I can, particularly around Sydney's many beaches and secluded coastal bays. I also frequently stroll around at night on busy weekends looking for action wherever I can find it.

I am constantly, feverishly horny, and I've enjoyed a lot of very, very kinky hook-ups in my time. I've also been humiliated many times, but what Cassie, Bec and Jess did to me really, really stung.

Clad in my wetsuit, I left my car and walked down to the concrete promenade, where I curiously watched Cassie and Tommy's progress down the sand. Cassie was badgering Tommy all the way, screaming and pointing at him as they trekked down the sand toward the water. The pair eventually stopped, and the bikini-clad Cassie stormed away from Tommy while he obviously pleaded with her to stop.

With Cassie and Tommy now separated, the cogs of my mind began to grind and whir. Thoughts and ideas swirled around my head. This was my opportunity to burn Cassie in return, and I knew that I had to take it. I had to act immediately in case I never saw the thirty-something blonde again. I'm a pretty laidback guy, and I don't usually act in malice, but this situation demanded it.

As I watched Cassie pedal off down the beach in the opposite direction to Tommy, getting further and further away from the hapless Scotsman, my plot started to formulate and click together. Cassie was now alone on a crowded beach in nothing but a revealing bikini, and it was my time to strike. I smiled to myself about what I now had planned.

I walked back to Cassie and Tommy's car, and quickly scanned around to check that nobody was watching me. I reached down and slid my fishing knife from its ankle sheath. Clutching the blade in my right hand, I bent down and then slammed its pointed tip into the front tire of the car. I drove it hard into the firm rubber, and immediately heard the air inside hiss loudly as it began to escape. I hurriedly drove the knife into the rest of the tires, constantly checking for witnesses.

I quickly returned to my car nearby, opened the door, and then rifled through the glovebox until I found a thick, black texta amongst all of the junk inside. Still scanning my surrounds, I went back to Cassie and Tommy's car, bent down by the driver side door, and scrawled the word "Bitch" across its smooth, painted metal. I flipped across to the passenger side door, and then rapidly defaced it with the words "Fuck you." Totally unnoticed, the first step of my plan was complete.

Still moving at a hectic pace, I returned to my car, grabbed my spearfishing bag from the boot, locked up, slipped on my reflective aviator sunglasses and baseball cap, and then jogged hastily down onto the warm sand of Bondi Beach.

The last time I was on Australia's most famous stretch of sand, I'd nearly been publicly stripped nude by a horde of drunken Dutch female tourists on Christmas Day [See Story: "Oz Beach Boy's Very Own Xmas Angel"], and I hoped that today would be equally crazy and eventful.

With foreboding clouds gathering in the sky, and wild, messy surf scattering foam across the shore, Bondi Beach was busy, but not as jam-packed as it gets on a clear, sunny day. It was also during the working week, so the kids were at school, instantly cutting the numbers.

I moved quickly down the beach until I finally made it to Tommy, who was looking down the stretch of sand for Cassie, who I could vaguely make out between the red-and-yellow safety flags in the middle of the beach, cautiously heading toward the rough surf.

"Hey, mate," I said to Tommy, walking toward him with my bag of spearfishing gear. "Do you drive a white Mazda CX-5?"

"Um, yeah...yeah, I do," Tommy said in his thick Scottish accent with a concerned, slightly angry look on his face. "Why? What's it to you?"

"Sorry, yeah, I parked near you and I saw you get out with your girlfriend..." I began, and Tommy aggressively cut me off.

"What's your fucking problem?" Tommy sneered. "What the fuck do you want?"

"When you guys left for the beach, I saw someone fucking with your car," I said, now convinced that Tommy was an arsehole too, just like his girlfriend. "They were writing shit on it, and fucking with your tires. I just wanted to let you know...just trying to help out, man."

A look of curious recognition crossed Tommy's sweat-slicked face, and he hung his head in what looked like disappointment. When he lifted his face to look at me, the Scotsman spoke in a strained, tired voice, and with a look of angry frustration.

"My fuckin' ex," Tommy sighed. "Was it a pretty blonde girl? Big milkers, nice arse, blue eyes?"

I couldn't believe it. I was about to spin some bullshit story about a gang of teenage hooligans fucking with his car for kicks, but Tommy had now actually given me his own even better story, opening the door on his apparently bunny-boiling ex-girlfriend, whose physical description nearly perfectly matched that of his current girlfriend...the angry Scotsman obviously had "a type". I instantly went along with Tommy's story.

"Yeah, she looked pissed off," I said. "She went fucking ballistic on your tires, man. You're gonna have to get the bus home."

"You don't have to look so happy about it, you Aussie fucker," Tommy sneered, and then marched up the beach and back toward his car, muttering all the way. "Fuckin' Lucy...for fuck's sake, girl. Why? Why?"

I watched the highly agitated Tommy leave, and when the prick was halfway up the beach, I made my move. With Tommy's back turned to me, I grabbed his beach bag, towels and umbrella up off the sand, and lightly jogged in Cassie's direction with all of the gear tucked under my heavily muscled arm.

When I reached the red-and-yellow safety flags in the middle of the beach, I ran up the sand in the opposite direction to the raging surf, and then dumped Cassie and Tommy's beach gear on the ground. Now neither of these made-for-each-other arseholes knew where their stuff was, which meant that Cassie was now completely alone on the beach, and separated from all her gear.

Still clad in my wetsuit with my fishing knife in its ankle sheath, I dumped my spearfishing gear-bag on the sand closer to the water, and then slid off my aviator sunglasses and baseball cap. I reached into the bag and pulled out my diving face-mask. As I stretched its elastic strap over my head, I looked down at the surf, searching desperately for Cassie.

After much harried scanning, I finally found the vicious little bitch. Her butt wobbling and her big breasts flopping around, Cassie made her way into the surf, confidently jumping waves, and moving further and further out.

The blonde thirty-something plunged gracefully into the water, and moved quickly past the other swimmers. Cassie looked to be good in the water, which would make the carriage of my plan slightly more difficult, but I was still confident I could pull it off.

I moved into the ocean with a confidence equal to Cassie's. I was comfortable in big surf, and I realised that the raging, frothy, rolling waves would actually provide me with a little cover, and might even allow me to get close to Cassie without her knowing.

I swam hard and fast with purpose, pushing through the waves until I eventually made it out to much deeper water. Cassie was closer toward shore, jumping and diving under the waves expertly.

After a few minutes, I swam back in toward Cassie, keeping most of my wetsuit-clad body under the water. With my diving face-mask in place, there was no way the blonde thirty-something would be able to recognise me if she did happen to spot me.

I hovered around in Cassie's general area, waiting for my moment. A large wave rolled over me, curled fiercely, and then broke just before Cassie, the full force of the foamy water hitting the big-breasted blonde and amusingly knocking her off-balance.

Cassie tried valiantly to remain upright, but the strength of the water was too much, and she tumbled hopelessly sideways, sinking below the waves. Cassie's big breasts wobbled wildly as she hit the water. I kicked off with my feet, and then swam quickly underwater in the thirty-something's direction, arcing through the surf at speed.

Just as Cassie emerged from the water, her hair streaking down over her face and her arms moving wildly as she desperately tried to get her balance, I pulled up in the water right behind her. Distracted by the wild water crashing around her, Cassie still hadn't seen me.

In one deft motion, I slid the fishing knife from its sheath on my ankle with my right hand. I then reached for the back of Cassie's bikini top with my left hand, and gently wrenched it back from her body.

Before Cassie had any idea what was happening, I worked my knife between the soft flesh of her back and the thin, black fabric of her bikini, and then quickly cut through the material. With one well-timed slice, I had instantly rendered Cassie's bikini top useless.

I watched the back of the bikini spread and fall open across Cassie's back, and then submerged myself in the water again. I kicked away from the ocean's sandy bottom and swam underwater until I was far enough from the blonde thirty-something to safely re-emerge.

As my head broke the cool, frothy water, I saw a clearly shocked Cassie look around in abject confusion, and then grab hopelessly at the back of her bikini, which flapped around with her movement.

Just as Cassie clasped at one end of the severed bikini, a large wave came tumbling in and slammed the beautiful blonde sideways. Cassie fell over, and I watched with glee as the force of the rushing water wrenched her bikini top downward off her body, leaving her instantaneously topless.

Cassie got back up, and then screamed and grasped futilely at her escaping black bikini, which had been taken by the surf. I saw a look of fear and horror cross Cassie's pretty face as she watched the top of her swimsuit disappear into the frothing water. With a gasp, Cassie switched focus to covering her now exposed breasts.